


Tango Therapy

by AVegetarianCannibal



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Dancing, Dancing Lessons, Hannigram - Freeform, Idiots with Feelings, M/M, Post-Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb, Tango
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-01
Updated: 2017-06-01
Packaged: 2018-11-06 17:35:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11040972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AVegetarianCannibal/pseuds/AVegetarianCannibal
Summary: Hannibal and Will need more than the usual physical therapy as they heal from their wounds.





	Tango Therapy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Hannibalsimago](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hannibalsimago/gifts).



His face had healed faster than his chest, much to Will’s surprise. Not that either had healed particularly _smoothly_. But his beard covered most of the scar on his cheek and he was already used to having scars all over his torso. What was one more, really?

The lingering problem was the stiffness. Hannibal admonished him to stretch and showed him exercise videos on YouTube. The problem was that it hurt to do them and they were also incredibly, incredibly boring.

One night after dinner in their rented villa, Will decided to bring up the subject that neither had broached in all the weeks they’d been together.

“Why don’t you want to touch me?”

Hannibal dropped the dishes into the sink a little harder than he probably meant to.

“I’ve touched you.”

“To take out my stitches,” Will said. “To help me wash my back a couple times when I was still healing.”

“I touched you just this morning,” Hannibal said, keeping his back turned.

“You picked a caterpillar off my shirt,” Will said with a snort. “Hannibal, would you at least look at me?”

Hannibal glanced over his shoulder, then went back to rinsing the dishes.

A thought suddenly occurred to Will. “Do you—are you _afraid_ to touch me? Is that why you won’t even help me do the dumb physical therapy videos?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Then teach me to tango,” Will said. “We’re going to Argentina next, I should know how to tango.”

“Your wounds—”

“I’m healed and so are you,” Will cut him off. “It’ll be good therapy for us, maybe in more than one way.”

Without waiting for Hannibal to answer, Will pulled up a tango playlist. The sound was a bit shallow and tinny coming from the tablet’s speakers, but it would do.

Hannibal sighed heavily, as if terribly put-upon. “Fine. I’m taller; I’ll lead.”

He dried his hands on a tea towel before approaching, and still he wouldn’t look Will in the eye.

“Oh come on,” Will scoffed. “At least _pretend_ to enjoy it.”

Hannibal pulled him into position, bodies aligned, and placed his hands and arms where they needed to go.

“Keep your spine straight,” Hannibal instructed. “Chest up, radiate confidence.”

In response, Will jutted his hips forward so his crotch was squarely in contact with Hannibal’s. Hannibal gave a small grunt of disapproval and repositioned himself so they were again some distance apart.

“When you step forward, you’ll do so from heel to toe,” Hannibal said. “When you step back, toe to heel.”

“So…like regular walking, then.”

“Don’t be a smart ass, Will,” Hannibal said. “These steps will be done in this order: slow, slow, quick, quick, slow. Simply go where I lead.”

“Don’t I always?”

He’d meant it to sound flirtatious, but Hannibal gave him a pained look.

They moved through the steps dozens of times, repeating them until Will learned the basics by sheer muscle memory. His shoulders and chest stung with pain at first, but it ebbed when he concentrated on the feel of Hannibal’s assured hand against his back, and the warmth of their palms pressed together.

For twenty minutes, Hannibal barely said a word until: “Did you mean it, Will?”

“You’re going to have to be more specific.”

“What you said on the bluff, your embrace. Were you sincere or were you only getting me closer to the edge to throw us off it?”

Will sighed. “Is that why you haven’t been touching me? You’re mad at me?”

"Not…mad. My feelings for you have blinded me to your intentions more than once. Can you blame me for wondering?”

“No, but don’t let them blind you to my intentions now,” Will said.

Proper form be damned, he moved his hands to lace his fingers together at the nape of Hannibal’s neck. Will thought he might get a complaint, but Hannibal only moved his own hands to his hips. They felt even more welcome there than they had at his back.

“What are your intentions?” Hannibal asked.

“To learn the tango,” Will said, “and dance with you in Argentina.”

“Oh?”

“Oh,” Will affirmed. “And then we’ll learn the national dance of every country we go to after that.”

That got him a small smile and a tentative squeeze of his hips.

“Well, that’s a start,” Will said, and moved closer to rest his head on Hannibal’s shoulder.

 

 


End file.
